


In The Dark, Alone I Scream

by Aurum_Auri



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Come Inflation, Dragons, M/M, Master/Servant, Open Relationship, Other, Porn With Plot, Pregnancy Kink, Size Kink, sex with a dragon, slutty mc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 12:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16765138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurum_Auri/pseuds/Aurum_Auri
Summary: Casimir Alaric’s life seemed to have a direction at last—as the loyal servant of a powerful dragon. But his heart and his loyalties are called into question and his past may ruin everything he’s worked for.





	In The Dark, Alone I Scream

**Author's Note:**

> There’s gonna be dragonfucking, my friends. There’s gonna be plot, too. If either of those things bothers you, click away. If that interests you, please, continue.

The four poster bed was softer than feathers. Casimir Alaric rolled over on the silk sheets. So much luxury. So much gold went into the furnishings in this room. This was the master’s private chambers, in a mansion built on the backs of hundreds of servants.

“Arrie,” the lord said, more of a pitiful simper than a man of his standing should have. “Arrie, please. Can I touch you again?” 

Casimir looked down his nose. The lord was a corpulent man with a pot belly, double chins, and jowls for cheeks. His cock was small, to boot. What a terrible shame.

“You know I prefer my full name,” Casimir purred, biding his time and masking his disdain. “Please, call me Arquette.”

Arquette Andriona, one of a dragon’s hoard of identities, was a bard from the south with a pretty smile and open arms. His kisses were sweet as crisp fall apples. His voice was straight from heaven above. He was also completely made up. 

“You’re such a cruel tease, Arquette,” Lord Elbrune said. He’d crawl on his knees if Casimir asked him too. Casimir was tempted. He reached out off the bed, and Lord Elbrune peppered his fingertips with whiskery kisses. 

“I’ll have to leave soon,” Casimir said, almost mournful. 

Lord Elbrune looked horrified. “Say it isn’t so. Can’t you stay a little longer? My wife won’t return for another month at least!”

“My troupe leaves tomorrow morning,” Casimir said. “There’s nothing I can do, unless someone bought out my contract…” He sniffled a little, looking away from the lord with his head bowed. “It’s as though they own me. I love being kept, but having a cruel man like the master holding the reins is so painful…”

The lord had a light in his eyes that only the greedy could possess. “How much? I could keep you here, shower you in everything nice.”

“But your wife!” Casimir gasped. “Surely she would object.”

“She doesn’t have to know,” Lord Elbrune said quickly. “Our little secret. I’ll keep you in the finest furs and silks. You’ll never want for anything. Just tell me how much to buy your master out.”

Casimir tapped his chin. “I suppose… to a man as wealthy as you, a contract of a thousand gold is a trifle.”

“So much,” the lord gasped. 

Casimir nodded sadly. “He wanted to be certain I could never be free of him. It is a greater sum than I’d ever see in my entire life. I’d be forced to warm his bed every night on the road, taken like an animal. You would never let me suffer that, would you?” he asked with wide eyes. “Please, save me!”

“Give me a few hours to run to the bank,” the lord said quickly, scrambling to pull on a pair of drawers. He beckoned the servants in to help him dress. “I’ll be back with everything and more. Worry not, my love. You’ll be free soon!”

As the lord left the room, Casimir smiled to himself. 

The lord was as gullible as he was wealthy. Casimir’s favorite kind of fool.

Twelve hours later, his purse jingling with platinum and gold, Casimir whistled as he skipped town. He was quite comfortable, riding in the back of a padded carriage drawn by a pair of marched horses. This was the last time his little Lord Elbrune would never see him again, if Casimir could help it.

His spell faded, and he couldn’t help but let out a bright laugh. His appearance rippled and shimmered as it faded. Red hair grew longer, fading to purple and falling in long curls around his face and down his back. His skin turned fairer, and his irises shifted from green to dark violet. 

A thousand gold. It was more than enough to get him passage on a ship to the Eastern Isles. He pulled his bag into his lap. The bag of holding held a great many mysterious wonders, but for the moment, he was most interested in the treasure map near the top. 

He spread the map over his legs, following the path with his finger. He’d find another sucker closer to the treasure’s hiding spot. He was a little bored with his current con routine, so perhaps it was time for a change. A new game to play with the gullible and greedy. 

The carriage rolled to a stop some time later, and Casimir poked his head out the door. They were surrounded by darkened woods in every direction. “I didn’t realize we’d arrived already,” Casimir said, with frost creeping into his tone.

“I’m sorry, sir.” The poor boy looked deeply sorry. “But it’s several days ride to the docks, and the horses are exhausted. I know these woods well, this is a safe place to stop for the night.”

Casimir pursed his lips, studying the driver. He was an attractive young adult, past the cusp of manhood by mere weeks. His shoulders were broad from working with horses, and his messy brown hair had a certain charm in the way it spilled over his shoulders. 

His hands, where they held the reins, were broad. The driver stood, and Casimir took a moment to look him up and down. Tall, closer to lean than to bulky, but undoubtedly strong. His shabby, well-worn trousers were a bit tight, cut close enough to the skin for his package to be quite discernible even in the moonlight’s gloom. 

Casimir smiled. 

“It’s alright. What did you say your name was again?"

They shared a bedroll that night, twisting in carnal passion under the moonlight 

* * *

There was a pleasant kind of soreness that made Casimir want to stretch himself out like a cat. This was not it. Three days in a carriage and he had murder in his heart. 

A shame he couldn't even take it out on the driver. Such a good lay didn’t deserve his ire, and god it had been good. The boy had been a virgin before all this, but he learned quickly and was eager to please, and dumb as he was, fucking Casimir must have been the highlight of his young life. 

It also saved Casimir about ten gold, because when he arrived in Broken Ridge Bay, the lad didn’t ask for payment at all after Cas dropped to knees and sucked him off one last time. He’d probably be yelled at by his boss, but he wasn’t a virgin anymore, so it wasn’t Casimir’s problem. 

The ship ride left him nauseous. Passage was cheap, but the ship faced rough seas. He spent half the time with his head over the edge, spilling his stomach into the waters below. The other half, he stayed in bed, too miserable to stand. 

He was quite happy to disembark at last. 

The Eastern Islands. Many of the islets were uninhabited. The larger ones and those closest to the main isles were thick with tourists and locals alike. But beyond that, the extended spattering of rocks was often uncharted, constantly shifting, and impossible to live on. 

He waited for low tide to strike out. 

A little rowboat was no better than a massive ship, but the sailor got him to the island with only minimal sickness, so he considered it a win. He’d find another way off the island. He tossed the sailor a gold and headed on his way. 

The map led him through an abandoned, long forgotten crypt built by some ancient race of people who had died out. There were a few treasures here and there, small fry that filled his pockets nicely and would give him a nice little hoard of trinkets to keep to himself. 

He found a set of gold bracelets, which he slipped onto his wrists. A golden collar band went around his neck. He smiled as he filled his bag with glittering gems and jewels. Mere trifles. 

His prize was further down. He almost lost a hand to a trap. Only some quick spellwork and cleverness kept him intact. 

A trio of undead guarded a door. Dispatching them burnt more of his magic than he would have liked, but he kept just enough power in reserve. 

Deep in the crypt, locked away in a rotted chest, he finally found it. Smashing the box open was simple- a little blast of ice magic and it shattered into splinters of ancient wood. He lifted the cursed diadem out of the chest, careful not to touch it with his bare hands. 

Skin contact would transfer the curse to him, and that would be less than ideal. He wrapped it in cloth and lowered it into his bag. Then he pulled out a stick of crystal-infused chalk and immediately got to work. 

Drawing the lines took him several minutes of satisfying work. He spread his hands flat over the edge. It glittered, and light rose up. He got to his feet with a grin.

The teleport circle came alive in a flash of brilliant lilac light. It twisted in the gloom, writhing like something alive. Magic was beautiful, he had always thought. Now it was his to control. He stepped through the gate before it could close. 

He was in a room even darker than the one before. He summoned a ball of light into his hand, stepping carefully over piles of treasure caught in the long shadows. 

Gold spilled over the floor, heaped into piles and sorted by value, level of antiquity, and magical importance. There was a distant clatter. Casimir’s blood ran cold. 

He peered this way and that. 

He could almost see reflective eyes peering out of the gloom. It had him on edge as he walked up to the throne. 

His master was nowhere to be seen. He hoped Master wasn’t upset with him still. He may have gone a little too far the last time they’d played their game, and Master had punished him brutally. He had felt the delicious ache for weeks. 

It was the silence that was truly terrible. 

“Master?” he called out softly. “My Lord Avraethryn? I have a gift for you. Are you still mad at me?” 

There was only silence. He walked closer to the golden throne, his head bowed. He held the cursed item aloft. 

“My lord, please. I brought this for your collection. Does it appease your anger?” The rattling came from behind him this time. Casimir didn’t move. “Please? You can take me again if it would please you.”

“You would like that too much,” came a low voice to Casimir’s four o’clock. Casimir whipped his head around. “It’s supposed to be a punishment, not a reward.”

Casimir said nothing. He lowered his head and held the offering a bit higher. A single massive, violet-scaled foot emerged from the darkness. Then another. Then a scaly snout followed after, breaking into the dim light. 

A purple dragon loomed above him, looking down his nose at Casimir. The image rippled as he began to shrink down. A dragon had many abilities, though the ability to shapeshift was quite rare among them. It was what made his Lord Avraethryn so special. 

When he emerged from the stacks of gold, stopping before a kneeling Casimir, he wore the form of a human man. His shoulders were broad and muscular, his eyes were an eerie pinkish purple color that matched the irises of his dragon form. A black mane rippled down his back, just as glorious as the dragon form’s halo of spikes and horns. 

A soft, strangled, desperate kind of sound slipped from Casimir’s lips before he could stop it. 

The now-human hand pushed Casimir’s hair back from his face, exposing the long scar down his cheek. Avraethryn trailed his finger down it fondly. Casimir suppressed a shudder. 

“P-please,” he breathed. “My lord. My beloved.”

Avraethryn picked up the offering, holding it by the cloth wrappings as he studied it. He tossed it carelessly at the cursed artifacts pile across the way. 

“It’s fine, I suppose. Suck me off, Casimir, and if you satisfy me with your mouth, perhaps we can discuss forgiveness for your sins.”

Avraethryn’s fingers clenched tight in Casimir’s hair, right on the edge of painful. Casimir reached up. He let his hands rest on Avraethryn’s thighs, a sign of proof that he wasn’t touching himself while he worshipped his God. 

Avraethryn stood nude before him, a dark Adonis of rippling muscle and dark, savage beauty. The human cock between his legs was thick and long, even while soft. Casimir eagerly opened his mouth. Avraethryn fed his cock past Casimir’s lips and Cas was ready to melt. 

A weak moan escaped him as Avraethryn used his throat, stiffening with every thrust, fucking Casimir’s throat hard enough to leave his voice rasping for days. He clutched at Casimir’s hair so hard it would surely rip out of his scalp. Yet the pain was perfection, leaving Casimir’s hips helplessly rutting against the air as he sought friction for his painfully hard cock. 

The release was boiling hot down his throat, thick spurts of seed that were thicker and warmer than any human’s and settled heavily on his belly when he swallowed it down. 

He looked up, a little trickle of spend spilling down his cheek. He was so hard, ready to spill untouched at a word. 

Avraethryn patted Casimir’s cheek. “You’re a good servant for me. So loyal. You have done well today, Casimir. I forgive you for your mistakes. Drop your trousers. Bend over on your hands and knees, and I’ll give you the prize you seek, my pretty slut.”

It was like being punched in the stomach, and Casimir’s cock ached from how hard he was. He couldn’t strip his clothes off fast enough, leaving himself nude before his lord. He dropped onto the stone floor. It would destroy his knees. He couldn’t wait. 

Thick fingers explored the cavern between his thighs. They were slicked lightly from a bottle of oil Casimir had tucked into his pockets. Now the bottle was unstoppered and open to the air, spilling out the pretty scent of flowers. Avraethryn unceremoniously shoved two fingers inside. 

“It’s loose,” he commented, twisting his fingers. “My slut, could you not help yourself while you were gone?”

“None compared to you, Master,” Casimir moaned. His fingers scrabbled over the stone when Avraethryn pushed deeper. “I wanted so badly, but none satisfied.”

“Of course not. You have the honor of taking a dragon’s cock. Nothing will compare. Spread your legs wider for me, my sweet whore.”

Casimir whimpered as his dragon mounted him. Human form was less than ideal, but this was par for the course. Avraethryn very rarely took Casimir in any form besides this one, not since the first time he’d left Casimir bleeding and broken on the floor. 

His master rutted like a beast, fucking fast and hard with a thicker cock than any human had ever given him. Casimir spiraled into a blank state, mindless and moaning, rocking blindly back to meet each thrust. Avraethryn wrung him dry on his cock. 

Like this, Casimir didn’t so much fall over the edge into his own orgasms as much as he was shoved head first, catapulted into pleasure, control and delicacy falling to the wayside. 

Avraethryn growled low when he spilled, flooding Casimir’s insides with a rush of molten seed. It warmed his belly and made his stomach swell softly from the volume of it. Casimir slipped off his cock and fell to the floor, limp, cum tricking out his ass in a slow stream. 

He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Fingers stroked through his hair. “Wouldn’t you look lovely if you were heavy with my get?” Avraethryn murmured. “A shame you cannot bear a dragon’s young. I could sire many offspring inside you if only you were female and less… mortal.”

Casimir whimpered. So he was being punished after all, teased because he could never give Avraethryn the thing he desired most. His body was turned around and lifted, pulled up and back onto Avraethryn’s cock. He shuddered as he was penetrated again, still oversensitive from the last round. 

“I’ll just fuck you full,” Avraethryn growled, “And we’ll see if it takes anyway.”   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
